I want to tell you about the actual sex with Carl, the Sex Connoisseur. And about how hard it was leaving him.

I also want to tell you about Sam. About how wonderful he is. About the time he tied me up and used his magic wand on me.

Yeah, you keep pretending THAT’S what you use the Magic Wand for.

About the time we nearly got arrested for fucking in a parking lot. About the awesome threesome we had with an old friend of mine I have been wanting to fuck for years. About how on Saturday night he made me finger myself til I came, next to him in his car while on a busy highway. About how he has the nicest cum I’ve ever tasted, which he attributes to being vegan. About how we tried anal yesterday, and it was the first time for me. And it was awesome. About how he reached out and held my hand throughout the entire 2 and a half hours of Django Unchained. About how he strokes my hair back and whispers, “Hey Gorgeous.”

And I will. But right now I can’t.

You see, I actually miss Carl. A good friend, a great lover, and someone I have feelings for.

And I have – somehow in the space of only one month – fallen in love with Sam. Now I have always had a soft tell-tale heart that I wear on my sleeve. I have always grown attached to people fast. But God, this was a whole new experience for me. I don’t just want to fuck Sam all the time (although I do want to fuck him. A LOT!). I want to spend all my time with him. And it’s terrifying. Not only because of the intensity of the feelings. But because he is fucking leaving town! Sam is about to start a post-doc at a University in City of Many Lights, over a 1000km away from me. I always knew this. I knew this before we even met in person. But I had no idea how quickly we would fall for each other.

I said goodbye to him yesterday. His flight leaves tomorrow. We are going to do the long-distance thing. He called me his girlfriend in passing for the first time on Friday night, which meant a lot to me, and he has promised to visit as often as he can. But seeing as how neither our arms nor genitalia stretch that far, it will be weeks, maybe months before I get to hold him again, have sneaky exciting sex with him again, make love to him again, have him hold my hand in a movie again. And my heart hurts.

Ron has gotten an office 8:30 to 5 job. Which is great because it means we can move out soon. But it means that he left for work this morning, and I’ll be alone for the rest of the day. And so currently, my days look as follows:

5am to 7am: Get woken up to be loved by either a small child or a cat.

7am: Try to go back to sleep. Think about Sam. Decide to message Sam.

7:01am: Realise it is 7 fucking AM and Sam will be asleep.

7:30am: Give up on trying to sleep, decide I have to work and be productive.

7:31am: Go on Facebook/Wordpress/OKcupid instead.

9am: Realise it is time to get the hell off Facebook/Wordpress/OKcupid.

9:10am – 12pm: Look for jobs to apply for. Realise that 95 percent of them demand at least 3 to 5 years experience, and the other 5 percent are unpaid internships.

12pm – 12:30pm: Mope about being unemployed. Find someone nearby to complain to. Message Sam. Decide it is time to cook healthy food.

12:30pm – 2pm: Go back onto Facebook instead.

2pm: Decide to go out for lunch.

2:01pm: Realise I have no money. Consider messaging Sam again. Reject the idea, as don’t want to come off as needy and crazy.

2:02pm: Decide I am too lazy to make food. Eat chips I had hidden in the room instead.

2:05pm: Sing along to the Les Mis soundtrack. Cry.

2:10pm: Decide I want to hang out with people. Realise all my friends have jobs and/or are busy.

2:11pm: Decide to work on my playscript/blog.

2:15pm: Realise I am too depressed to write comedy and/or erotica.

2:16pm: Have an amazing idea to write a tragedy about an unemployed theatre-maker/erotic blog writer.

2:20pm: Realise no one wants to watch that, scrap that idea. Go to have short nap. Dream about Sam.

6pm: Wake up ridiculously horny. Have slept all afternoon and done nothing productive. Decide to make healthy supper. Harass Ron, who is exhausted from work, to spend time with me.

6:30pm: Get distracted by porn (only if there are no small children around. Otherwise I just have to deal with the horniness) and Facebook. Eat grapes for supper instead.

7pm – 11pm: Play Civilisation 5/Monopoly Tycoon. Make self feel better by saying they are stimulating strategy games, and clearly good for my brain.

3:40am: Have what appear to be excellent creative ideas, reminds self to write them down when I wake up.

3:50am: Fall asleep, and forget them.

Repeat.

Today I deviated slightly from the routine to watch my tiniest cat chase and eat bugs for twenty minutes. Riveting. Anything to take my mind off of Sam and how much I miss him already. It’s been a whole one day.

This post follows on from Part 5 of the “I’ll have a large order…” series. The story continues directly.

THE (ALMOST) SEX

We got back, bag of weed in Kelly’s handbag. I went to sit on the couch. CCG came to sit behind me and started to rub my breasts through my dress. I didn’t protest but I didn’t co operate either. I just sort of sat there stiffly. I was tipsy, but nowhere near drunk enough for this. Kelly began to roll a joint. I thought that might help, so I said to CCG, “Just wait, I want to have some weed first.” Kelly said, “Yeah, slow down baby, Taylor likes it slow with lots of foreplay.” Not always actually, but I said nothing to contradict her. Anything that might keep him away from me for longer. I started feeling annoyed with myself. Why had I allowed myself to get into this situation, why hadn’t I spoken up earlier? Was sex with Kelly really worth this? Well it was too late now.

Kelly rolled a very large joint, badly. So badly that I started getting pieces of weed in my mouth. Apparently that one caramel vodka shot and the few sips of cider had made her drunk. I had forgotten how easily Kelly got drunk. The weed wasn’t bad, but it didn’t really calm me down enough. CCG continued to rub my breasts through my dress as I smoked it. The joint was finished all too soon, and there were no more excuses I could think up. It was time to try and do this. I realized I wasn’t at all wet, and that when we finally got naked, as was seemingly inevitable at this point, they would be sure to notice this. I tried to focus on Kelly. I moved away from CCG and leaned forward on the couch so that I could kiss her as she sat on the floor. I lifted my hands to rub her beautifully shaped breasts through her dress, while CCG moved towards me and started rubbing my ass, and trying to lift up my dress to pull my stockings down. I got down onto the floor next to Kelly, to avoid him. How he did not get any of these hints is beyond me. Maybe he did get them, and was too horny to care.

An idea suddenly came to me. Earlier in the day we had been chatting about porn stars that we liked, and had all three agreed how much we liked Andy San Dimas:

Andy

Oh yes, I love me some Andy.

I asked CCG if he had any Andy porn nearby we could watch. He said he did. I made out with Kelly some more as he found some. I reached underneath her knit top to pull it off over her head, and she took off her bra. I turned my head down intending to kiss her nipples, and realized she had had them both pierced since I had last seen her. I had never been with anyone with pierced nipples before. I reached my head down to her breasts and traced my tongue over her left nipple, tasting warm flesh and cold metal. She quivered slightly and arched her neck backwards. I ran my fingers through her hair, gripped it tightly and pressed my entire mouth down onto her nipple, suckling her, tracing my tongue back and forth repeatedly, with increasing force. She began to moan, and I felt myself starting to get wet. At last. CCG started the Andy video, and took off his shirt. He started to take off his belt, as Kelly reached out and undid mine. I looked at the large TV screen. Andy was having a pre-sex conversation with some young looking guy with a baseball cap on. Kelly stood up, wobbly on her feet and lifted me to mine. She reached down and pulled my dress off over my head. As she reached around my back to undo my bra I looked at CCG. He was totally naked now, and was stroking his hard-on. He was fairly pale all over his body, and uncircumcised. Kelly pushed me onto the couch, and I lifted my legs so that she could pull off my stockings. Andy was still talking. I wished they would get to the sex already, so that I had something to look at. CCG came to sit down next to me, and started to touch my nipples. I have very sensitive nipples, and so at first this actually felt good, but then he started to squeeze and pull on them, and I said, “Oww.” As Kelly slipped off her panties she said, “Baby, Taylor likes it gentle.” Now this, such as, “Taylor likes lots of foreplay and to take it slowly” is also not entirely true. Sometimes I like to be held down, to be spanked, to be tied up, to be fucked or licked vigorously, intensely. But I decided in this case, “gentle” was an okay word to go with, seeing as how CCG and Kelly seemed to be into a fair amount of pain, if the piercings, the random whip, and the Dominatrix outfits lying around in the lounge were anything to go by. He left my nipples alone and moved his hand down underneath my panties to put a finger inside me. It hurt a little, as I was still not that wet. He removed his hand and sucked his finger, saying “Oh my God you taste good.” Usually this sort of thing would turn me on immensely. In this case, it didn’t. I said nothing and looked at the TV again. Andy was sucking young guy’s cock. Finally, someone was getting some action, and enjoying it. I realized I was quite stoned, because everything seemed to be moving a lot slower than usual. Kelly reached forward and pulled my panties off. All three of us were now naked.

I stared at Kelly’s body. She was still as beautiful naked as I remembered. She was sitting with her legs apart, and I realized that she now also had a clit piercing. I shuddered slightly at the thought. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel her clit, and slip my fingers inside of her. But I realized CCG was saying something. “What?” I said. “I said, do you want to watch me fuck Kelly or do you want to taste me”, he said, gesturing to his cock. Instead of saying “Are those really my only two options”, I said, “I want to watch you fuck her.” He said, “Okay, but I want to taste you first.” “Didn’t your dentist say you can’t go down on anyone for a few weeks?” I said, but he responded, “I don’t care.” He got down on his knees and pretty much plunged his face into my cunt. Regardless of how unattractive I found him, I think that if the sexiest man/woman on earth tried to go down on me like that, I would be equally unimpressed. I lasted about 6 seconds and then said “Owww, sorry, but that is really sore.” Kelly smacked CCG on the arm, “Baby I TOLD you, Taylor doesn’t like it rough.” He pulled a face and said, “Fine,” moving behind Kelly and pushing her down onto all fours. She crawled towards me like that so that her face was positioned between my legs. CCG raised her hips to him and thrust into her. She crinkled her face up slightly at the penetration, and then raised her right hand to play with my clit. She licked her thumb and then began rubbing her thumb up and down on it. On the TV Andy was being fucked on a couch, her one leg almost raised behind her head. I tried to focus on Kelly touching me, and on Andy being fucked. I began to relax, and as Kelly raised her tongue to my clit, I moaned slightly and began to touch my nipples. Just as this was starting to really feel good, Kelly’s eyes began to droop and she dropped her hips down to the floor, causing CCG’s cock to slide out of her, and she rested her cheek against my inner thigh. She looked tired, and peaceful. I stroked her hair, feeling some kind of intense, indefinable emotion for her. “Kelly,” CCG said. She didn’t respond. “Kelly! Come on, Kelly!” But she had passed out, there was no point. He cursed and stood up. “Sorry Taylor,” he said, “we’ll have to continue this another time. I mean, you didn’t even get to taste her.” It was true, I hadn’t. I said nothing, and feigned sleepiness. He turned off Andy, who was in the process of sucking cock again, waiting to swallow the cum soon to be unleashed into her mouth. He reached down and lifted one of Kelly’s arms around his neck, and half carried half dragged her to the bed. I followed them through into the bedroom to make sure that she was okay. He put her into bed and she groggily asked for a bucket to be placed next to her. He went to get one, and I kissed her moist forehead, stroking her hair back behind her ear. She grabbed onto my arm and said, “Taylor, sleep with us.” And pulled me down into the bed next to her. I held her for a minute, and considered it, but then CCG came back, bucket in hand. He placed it next to her, and got into bed on next to me, so that I was in the middle. He said, “So you’ve come to join us, have you? Kelly pass me the condoms” Kelly was too passed out to respond, thankfully. I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off as he said, “Never mind, I’ll get them.” “Actually!” I nearly shouted. “Um, actually, I am feeling very tired.” I considered just trying to sleep there, but honestly I feared he might try to fuck me in my sleep. Nothing he had done up to this point had convinced me otherwise. I got up, mumbling, “Sorry, goodnight” and I closed the door behind me. I went over to the sex couch where I sat with my head in my hands for a moment. Then I got up, arranged the pillows, grabbed a folded up blanket from nearby, and turned out the light.

THE MORNING AFTER

I woke early. The sun streamed in through the white curtains into the lounge. I felt sick and hungover. My mouth was dry from the alcohol and the weed. I was hungry, but this wasn’t my house, and I didn’t feel comfortable raiding the fridge. I stumbled to the bathroom to pee, which was when I saw CCG’s entire upper denture in a glass on the basin. They creeped me out. I decided to at least look for something to drink, and I found a 2 litre Coke bottle in the fridge with about a fifth left inside it. I drank it. It was flat, but it helped a little. I heard movement in the bedroom, and I sprinted back to the couch, not wanting them to know that I was awake, not ready to deal with either of them yet. But no one appeared. I felt angry with myself. I should have been assertive. I should have said, Look, I don’t want to do anything sexual with you CCG, but please don’t take offense. I know that I was afraid of it being awkward if I did that, knowing I had to stay with them, and knowing that he was going to have to drive me home the next day. My own behavior confused me. I am usually so assertive, so forward. I made a decision then and there that, no matter how much I wanted to fuck someone, or no matter how much I cared about someone, I would not be willing to be sexually involved with their partner, if I was not attracted to them. I was going to learn from this.

I played on my phone for a while, quickly hiding it and pretending to be asleep when CCG did finally emerge. I cursed myself for not having put on clothes to sleep in, as I was still naked. He made a lot of noise in the kitchen, but I continued to feign sleep. Eventually the smell of coffee caused my caffeine addiction to kick in, and I pretended to “wake up”. I sat up, wrapping the blanket around my breasts, and stroking one of the dogs who had come to say hi, as CCG made me coffee, and making the following comment about my usage of the blanket, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

The morning that followed was mostly boring, coupled with many moments of awkward. One of these would be when one of their dogs licked the top of my breast that was showing out of the blanket, and CCG said, “Ooooh, I would love to be doing that.” This time not only did I say nothing, but I glared at him. Kelly made an appearance, looking exhausted and hungover. CCG immediately suggested we continue on from the night before. I said, “Actually, I am feeling very hungover and ill, and I really need to eat.” Kelly looked almost relieved, as she was still also feeling very ill. “I’m okay to go home now, if you’re okay to take me.” CCG said, “No, why don’t go buy some bacon and eggs and cook us all some breakfast?” “I don’t eat eggs.” I said. There was an awkward silence. Kelly said, “Well why don’t we all go out for breakfast?” I said, “Okay, will you be able to take me home after?” CCG said, “Well let’s come back here after and see what happens.” I said nothing, but sighed loudly. Nothing was going to happen, I had already decided. But going out for breakfast sounded like a good hangover cure. We went to a nearby diner. We didn’t talk much, as Kelly and I nursed our hangovers and CCG nursed his sexual frustration.

When we got back I asked if I could use the computer, claiming I needed to send an important email. Actually I just wanted an excuse to distract myself with, away from CCG. I messed around on the internet and facebook and then saw I had now gotten a friend request from CCG. I couldn’t exactly not accept it without pissing him or Kelly off, so I accepted it. I should have waited though, because he immediately started sending me messages on fb, from the other room where he was on his phone. He sent me, “God you are sexy. Do you want to fool around?” I closed my fb so that maybe he would think I hadn’t seen them. I opened a Wikipedia page and looked up some serial killers I had heard about recently on the crime channel, so that it looked like I was doing something at the pc. I decided it was time to talk to Kelly and tell her I wanted to go home. I called out for her. Shortly after, CCG appeared. I said, “I was just looking for Kelly.”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Oh,” I said. He came to look at my screen. “You’re looking up serial killers?”

“Yes.”

“That’s hot,” he said, and laughed. I said nothing.

He came to sit next to me and said, “You know we don’t need to wait for Kelly to wake up. I want to rip those pants right off of you, right now.”

I swallowed. I said, “The thing is, I am still very tired, and not feeling so great, so I don’t really feel like doing anything. Sorry.”

He stared at me for a while, as I stared at the floor.

“Maybe when she wakes up then,” he said. I said nothing. He got up, and he left the room.

I hid in there for an hour until Kelly woke up. I went through to the lounge to sit next to her, and rest my head on her shoulder. I touched her leg and said, “Kelly, it’s been lovely seeing you, but I need to get back to my brother’s house.” “Are you sure?” She said. I shrugged and said, “Yeah.” Kelly said to CCG, “Baby can we take Taylor home now?” He looked at me and said, “So you don’t want to do anything?”

“I really just want to get home,” I said.

And so he stomped around the house getting dressed. I leaned to Kelly’s ear and whispered, “Why is he getting ready so aggressively?”

Kelly shrugged and said, “Oh. He is just grumpy and pissed off because he didn’t get laid.”

“I see.”

They drove me home in silence, apart from CCG’s metal music blasting throughout the car. I reached from the backseat and slipped my hand passed the passenger seat and held Kelly’s hand the whole way there.

AFTERMATH

I did not see them again while I was in Place by the Sea for the next few days. Ron and I moved down to Place by the Sea in early December. CCG and Kelly got married 2 weeks later. We were 2 of the 4 people there who were Kelly’s friends. The rest were all CCG’s friends, increasing my thinking that she is becoming more and more isolated. She looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her. I got drunk at their wedding to cope.

On New Year’s Eve I sent Kelly a message asking if we could finally go out on some sort of date and talk about the possibility of restarting our relationship, which is what she had brought up when I had previously visited. She did not respond. A few days later I sent her a message asking her about. She responded that she was “thinking about it.” I was confused by this response, as she was the one who had brought it up originally. Every time I have tried to initiate plans with her alone, so that we can talk about the fact that I want a relationship with her, and only her, not CCG, she has avoided it, and wanted to invite him along, at which case I have then backed out. It’s now been over a month and I still haven’t seen her. If she is unwilling, or he is unwilling to let her, have a relationship with me without his involvement, then there will be no relationship. As fucked up as that makes me feel.

So Ron and I packed up all our stuff, our 3 cats and 2 rats, and spent all our savings on moving accross the country to Place by the Sea. Now, we don’t have any money to put a deposit down on a place yet. We don’t have jobs yet. Apparently a Masters in Theatre is not actually that sought after, and Ron only has an Hons so far.

I bring this up because our current living situation has influenced my lack of blogging. And also just a lack of general awesomeness. Ron’s eldest brother has a guest suite in his house. He also has a sullen, grumpy wife and two exceptionally energetic daughters aged 5 and 8. They are also impossibly naughty and think that I am the most awesome live-in playmate they have ever had. I have no choice in the matter. Our door doesn’t lock. We have no privacy. The 8-year old can READ (she does it all the time) and likes to sneak in to look over my shoulder and read what I am doing at the pc.

*Cue Taylor looking over her shoulder to check for small nosy humans*

So I just haven’t been able to. Honestly I have been pretty exhausted. The kids are exhausting. Looking for a job is exhausting. Being permanent guests in grumpy, tense people’s house is exhausting. Having sex marathons is exhausting (I was lucky enough to have one of those on Thursday with a new secondary partner I am significantly smitten with. Let’s call him Sam. Of the flexible tongue. I WILL do a post about the sex marathon. I HAVE to, the sex was too good not to share.)

Anyway, those are my excuses. Spank me if you must.

However, today I was notified that my blog is now being featured in the Erotica section on http://www.loveboudoir.com and it has inspired me to get back in the blogging saddle. Even if I have to stay up late til the small humans have gone to bed, it’s time to resume consistent posting. So, coming up this week will be Sex with a Sex Connoisseur Part 2, and The Almost Threesome From Hell Part 3, which will conclude both those stories.

And then next week a post about sex with Sam. *Cue Taylor going giddy and, let’s be honest, rather moist.*

As the date of the “Sex Plan” (check out my last 2 blog posts for context) approached I began to feel increasingly nervous. Carl can be incredibly changeable, as I’ve mentioned, and there was a part of me that was scared that I would arrive there and he would say, “By the way Taylor, I’ve changed my mind. Would you like some tea? A game of chess?” I knew that if that happened the friendship would not be able to recover. I had dealt with rejection from him once, and being around him for 6 months while being so incredibly attracted to him knowing that I couldn’t have him was bad enough. If he were to reject me again, I knew this would be it.

I agonized over what to wear. I thought about lingerie. I bought this crotchless body suit, but quickly rejected it. It made me look like I was trying way too hard. I decided to go with a purple and black lace push up bra. I tried to find a pair of plain black panties to go with them, but they were all in the wash. I cursed myself for not having thought further ahead and made sure I had some clean ones. I looked through my entire underwear drawer, trying not to make a big deal about it because Ron was in the house. Ron knew I was going to Carl with the intended purpose of fucking him, and so I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I realised 90% of the underwear I own is ridiculous. Old grey faded panties, panties with pretty birds on them. What the FUCK had I been thinking getting those? Thankfully I remembered that I have a lace black g-string which I hadn’t worn in a long time. G-strings aren’t usually my style, but I thought they went nicely with the bra. I wanted to wear a dress, so I elected to wear some patterned leggings to hide the g string, in case the wind decided to try and attack me at some point walking to his house.

After shaving, curling my hair, straightening my fringe and painting my toenails (light purple over the old dark purple which had been coming off, so they looked a bit shoddy but I had run out of time) I was ready to go. My heart started pounding before I had even left the door. I was terrified actually. Because Carl and I are such good friends. Because I have seen Carl’s bookshelf, and it is intimidating. Books about g-spots, erogenous zones, pleasure for the women etc etc. Once when we were drunk and making out he tied me to his bed, with ties he already has attached to his bed posts. It was quite a surprise, but I loved it. I wondered if they would be involved. That same night he showed me his “sex drawer”, filled with condoms, flavoured lubes, toys etc. All this, plus the 6 month wait of anticipation, combined with the last week of crazed jealousy over his (Now EX, thank fuck) Girlfriend and the lead up to the 25th made my headspin, my breath quicken and my heart race as I left my house.

Carl lives very near to my place, about a ten minute walk. We had chatted via text and agreed to meet at 2pm. He had suggested we go out for lunch, and I had agreed via text, but this was just to be amiable. I had no desire to go out for lunch. I was so nervous I could barely eat. I buzzed his flat, already getting sweaty from the sun, the walk and the nerves.

CARL: Hello?

For some unknown reason I decided this would be a great idea to try to be funny. I put on a weird voice.

He laughed, then he buzzed me in. I realised I was breathing way too fast and I tried to catch my breath. I opened the gate and walked up the few stairs to his flat. His lounge has these large glass windows and a glass door which looks out onto a little patio. The door was open, I walked in. He wasn’t in the lounge nor the adjoining kitchen. His music was playing loudly. I went into his study. There he was, sitting in his chair playing around on his pc. He stood up when he saw me and walked over to greet me. Carl is about half a metre taller than me, and I reached up to hug him.

CARL: I was so confused by the lamp thing, I didn’t even realise it was you.

TAYLOR: Haha, yeah, I was just messing around.

He led me into the kitchen and offered me some tea. I tried to control my breathing. I said yes to tea, and sat at the kitchen counter. I realised his counter was quite dirty, well, by Carl’s OCD standards it was, with dishes lying about and an unwiped counter. He saw me looking at them and said

CARL: Yeah, there is no water. Otherwise I would have cleaned up before you arrived.

TAYLOR: Oh, that’s alright, I don’t mind.

He put some Chai tea down in front of me. It was too milky.

CARL: After this, shall we go?

TAYLOR: Would it be alright if we hung out here for a while first?

CARL: Sure.

He picked up his tea and moved to his couch, gesturing for me to follow him. I put my tea down on the coffee table, and sat next to him on the couch. He put his arm around me, and I tried to relax my body into the crook of his arm. I was so tense, it was difficult. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face into his neck. How long had it been since I had done this? Months. My tension combined with suddenly being so close to him that I could breathe in the smell of him made me dizzy.

TAYLOR: It’s that I was really surprised you wanted to…you know, have sex. Because you said you weren’t attracted to me anymore. And that was a really hard thing to hear. And yet here we are now, so I guess, I am just wondering how you were able to turn the attraction back on.

CARL: Honestly, Taylor, I don’t know. It’s just something I realised I wanted to explore with you before you left.

TAYLOR: Okay. Well, I am happy you did. Are you hungry? If you are could we order in?

CARL: I’m not that hungry. But we could do that.

TAYLOR: I am tired of having to pretend that I am not attracted to you. And I know that Girlfriend just left, so I don’t want to be draping myself all over you in public. But I don’t think I can stop myself. So it’s probably safer if we stay here…

He laughed, his charming, deep chuckle. He smiled at me.

CARL: I was actually wondering if you would come to a dinner with me tonight, as my date. It’s (“Some Random Person I Barely Know”, let’s call her Bree) Bree’s farewell tonight, but I know I promised to spend the day with you.

TAYLOR: Won’t they find it strange that you suddenly have a new girl on your arm?

CARL: Well, I am not that into Public Displays of Affection anyway, and if anyone does ask, I will just tell them I am poly.

TAYLOR: Okay, then sure.

There was a pause. I was starting to relax a bit, and I was starting to tingle all over. I wasn’t sure how to broach the sex subject. Should I go into the bathroom and come out naked? In underwear? I wasn’t sure.

CARL: So if we do order in, what do you want to eat?

TAYLOR: You.

That seemed to do it. He laughed and kissed me. Carl has a very unique way of kissing, it was one of the first things I noticed about him. He starts off by holding his mouth away from yours for just a second longer than is usual, to increase the anticipation. I was about to find out, Carl LOVES to increase anticipation. Once he feels you’ve waited long enough he presses his mouth down hard on yours, breathing in through his nose to indicate his desire, his passion for you. He lightly nibbles on your lower lip, caressing your tongue with his.

As our kissing heated up I found myself getting wet at the prospect of what else he might be able to do with that skilled tongue of his. I had spoken to Carl a lot in the past about the kind of things I enjoyed sexually. One of the most notable conversations I recall was when we were chatting about how sexual fantasies are very seldom politically correct. In almost every aspect of my life I am assertive and in control. My very chosen field highlights this (Theatre director) need to control. But in bed I love to be dominated. I love to have someone hold me down, be a little rough with me, tell me they’re going to have their way with me (I don’t mean every time, and I don’t mean painfully.) It appears Carl remembered this conversation. He stood up, leaned down to kiss me further and pulled my legs towards him. I wrapped my legs around him, and he whispered

CARL: Put your arms around my neck, and hold on.

I did, and he picked me up. I laughed with delight. It’s been a long time since anyone literally carried me into their bedroom. I was a bit nervous though, as I am quite a curvy woman, and would definitely not consider myself to be light to pick up. As he was carrying me, I said

TAYLOR: Shame, are you alright?

He threw me down onto his bed, and said

CARL: No no, it’s Carl, not “Shane.”

I smacked him on the shoulder.

TAYLOR: Very funny.

He got on top of me and I could feel his hard on pressing against me through his jeans. He rubbed it between my thighs and I moaned in anticipation. We kissed like that for a while, and then he stood up and swung my legs around so that I was no longer sideways on his bed, but face up with my head resting on his pillows. He undid my belt, and traced his fingers from my bare neck, down over the thin fabric of my dress, tracing the outline of my breasts, allowing his fingers to come to rest gently between my legs. He reached under my dress and pulled off my tights.

He began to kiss my body. He kissed my inner thighs, and then began to nibble, lick and kiss all the way down each leg. When he began to lick behind my knees, in that sensitive area where I usually don’t like to be touched, I suddenly felt intense arousal. I had not realised before that when caressed in a certain way they could be an erogenous zone. When he got near to my feet I grew paranoid and prayed silently that they would not smell bad. If they did, he gave no indication as he kissed the tops of them gently. My g-string was soaked through at this point; I wanted to fuck him, I could take the anticipation no longer.

I sat up and reached for him, he kissed me quickly, and then pushed me back down onto the bed, holding my arms down and getting on top of me. He pushed my legs even wider open with his knees as he slowly, rhythmically ground his pelvis against mine. I began to tremble and moan with pleasure and excitement. When he sensed I my excitement mounting he let go of my arms only long enough to pull my dress over my head and deftly unhook and discard my bra. I was now clad only in my lacy black g-string. It was the middle of the day, there was no darkness to hide behind, no lights that I could reach to turn off. He sat back to survey my naked breasts. I tried to suck my stomach in, conscious that I wanted to look desirable. He was smiling down at me with longing as my chest rose and fell with my excited breathing. I reached up to touch his face. As I did so he grabbed my arm, his eyes glinting, and forced it down behind me. He reached behind his bed with his other arm and pulled out one of the ties tied to his bed posts. He slipped my hand into it, and pulled it tight. He then did the same with my other hand.

You know the one who you have to carefully check your guest list before inviting them, to make sure you haven’t inadvertently invited one of their exes, one of their exes new partners, one of their many partners, one of their many partners partners etc etc etc.

It turns out this whole having sex with Carl prospect has got me in quite a headspin. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve started sending him pictures of my tits for fucksake. I desperately want to see him. And even more, I desperately want him to purposefully ditch his girlfriend to spend time with me, because of what it means: I am more important than she is.

About 3 months ago before Carl and I decided to be “just friends” he was supposed to come to a big house party with me. I am part of an academic department filled with crazy, loud, artsy people and I wanted to take Carl along because they tend to be really fun. He originally agreed to, and then got flu. He said how sorry he was, and promised a raincheck. It never happened.

About an hour ago I received a text inviting me to another such of these, a birthday party for a friend of a friend. I immediately thought of Carl, so I texted him. I was not sure what he was going to say, because I know that Girlfriend sold her bed yesterday and is now staying at his house. Of course, they have plans. So I reminded him about the raincheck he had promised me, and that he has plans with Girlfriend that I am not invited to for the next 3 days. We had originally planned a big beach trip for this Saturday when she was sposed to be leaving on the twentieth. Now she is going, and I am not. A friend is having a party on Friday. They invited Girlfriend, and made sure not to invite me, because we don’t get invited to the same things now. It’s not that we don’t like each other. Or maybe we do. Maybe I just don’t like her. Because why would she feel threatened by me? After all, she has won. She has Carl, she apparently monopolizes all of Carl’s time, she has basically attached herself to him before she leaves. And so Girlfriend has 3 days to party with Carl, with my other friends, and I have been sidelined. Regardless, Carl says he can’t change his plans. He says he really wants to, but can’t. Do I believe him? I don’t know. So I make him promise to spend a lot of time with me next week, before I leave, making me sound like a whiny, needy, demanding annoyance.

And I hate the way this makes me feel. This is one of the biggest problems with polyamory I think. Making everyone feel important, making everyone feel wanted, desired. I hate the way this all makes me sound, because I basically want him to choose me over her. Which I know is unfair. I mean, I have a primary partner, why shouldn’t he? I suppose because I am leaving at the end of the month, and I want him all to myself before I go. She has been his primary for months. She’s gotten to sleep with him, wake up next to him, fuck him, be taken to parties by him. What have I been? Not even a secondary really. A someone that never turned into anything real. And yet I still feel so deeply for him. My emotions are all over the place. It’s like the prospect of sleeping with him has splattered them across the walls in nauseating rainbow paint. And it’s all highly irrational when looked at from a logical point of view. But whoever said emotions were rational?

I’m going to interrupt my series about my recent travels with a quick post about a Sex Plan…

What the fuck is a sex plan Lady Taylor? Well it is exactly what it sounds. A plan to get fucked. With a date and time. No questions about whether or not it will happen, the plan is for sex.

This sex plan was made with a good friend of mine named Carl. Carl is the person who introduced me to polyamory this year. I met him when Ron and I were broken up for a while, and Carl made no secret of the fact that he wanted to get into my pants. At first the polyamory idea put me off to be honest, the idea of monogamy having been so ingrained in me from birth. I think what I fear most about polyamory is not being important to people, is just being another random fuck. Unless it is a definite one-night stand I want to be someone who is liked, appreciated, and is made to feel important. I like to have sex with people more than once, you get better at it as you get to know their body.

Carl took me as his date to his birthday party, I had a great time with him, and we went back to my place afterwards. He tried to take my clothes off and….I just couldn’t. I was very attracted to him, but I was still in love with both Ron and Theo, Ron had only just moved out and Theo was still fucking me around. Literally. (He was still fucking me, and fucking with my emotions). I was afraid to add Carl to the mix. He seemed okay with it, and we just cuddled. I had a great time with him, but after he left I decided not to see him for a while because I needed to sort my emotions out first.

Shortly after this Ron moved back in, Theo and I stopped seeing each other, and speaking to each other, and making eye contact. At the time I was trying monogamy again, and so Carl got the hint and moved on. We spent a lot of time together and became good friends. I was still very attracted to him.

Ron and I began going to counselling and I suggested we try polyamory. Ron said he needed to think about it. It was around this time that Carl invited me to come and look at the stars with him through his telescope. It was freezing, and we lay very close together on a picnic blanket, looking at the stars, drinking wine. I kissed Carl, and told him I was trying to get Ron to go for the polyamory thing. We went back to Carl’s place. Carl said, “We can’t have sex. Ron needs to be okay with it first.” I agreed. He did tie me to his bed though, and we made out like that for a while. I found it extremely exciting.

A month later Ron agreed. I continued to spend time with Carl, and kiss him when we were together, and while there was groping involved, he never tried to sleep with me. I sent him a message asking what was going on. He said, that his attraction for me had faded, that it had changed into a kind of “intense affection” as opposed to a sexual attraction and that he did not know why. I was annoyed and perplexed. He apologized for confusing me, claiming he was confused himself. I was very disappointed. I regretted not sleeping with him when I had the chance, now. But maybe that’s just the reaction to being told you can’t have something, you want more. We continued to kiss, and grope a bit, but he would always stop it before it became too sexual. Thus, my seductions were failing.

He started dating another girl here in town, who I have known for years, and don’t like much. I was insanely jealous. He also ended things romantically between us completely, saying it was confusing our relationship, and that we needed definite boundaries between friendship and romance to make it easier for us to define our relationship. I said that was fine, then we did not need to be friends. He said that would devastate him, because I meant so much to him. I said, “If I mean so much to you, then if you had to choose between me and your new primary girlfriend who would you choose?”. I know that was an unfair thing to say, but I was furious at him and felt rejected. He said, “It would be awful to do that, but I would choose you. With her it is mostly sex, with you, you’re very important to me.” I don’t know if I believed him, but the fact that he had said it meant something to me. He swore to keep his girlfriend away from me and the bar I worked at, and spent time with me alone, just the two of us. I still longed for him sexually, but I agreed to just be friends who occasionally kissed “hello” and “goodbye”, and held hands sometimes when watching movies. He admitted another reason he shied away from the idea of sex was because he was afraid things would become awkward between us. I thought this a silly reason, but I suppose it is valid, especially after how things turned out with The Shy Boy: we barely speak now.

A month ago we were having a conversation about how his GF is leaving in November for Mauritius and then to teach in Korea, and so they will break up. I mentioned that I am also leaving at the end of November, and I would quite like to have sex before I leave. I just came out and said it. He said he would think about it. I went travelling shortly after, and then so did he after I got back. I saw him on Friday for the first time in weeks. While we were walking to lunch, he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. And yes, I want to, as well. Before you leave.” I was quite surprised actually. He has had 6 months to tell me he wants to fuck me, and I would have arrived at his doorstep in lingerie.

Perhaps it’s because there is not much chance of it being awkward now, as I leave at the end of the month. If it does go wrong, and it is awkward, I will be miles away. He and his GF have a sort of monogamous relationship here in this town, although he can do whatever he likes when he is in other cities. Thus he asked me to wait until she leaves. It was originally going to be the 20th (today!!) but her flight was pushed back to the 25th. The DAY she leaves. I am basically going to show up as soon as she is gone. He has asked me not to mention this to anyone, hehe, because he thinks it will make him look bad. But she did know she was going to be dating someone polyamorous, and they are breaking up. And my relationship with him predates hers. Besides, this sex has been 6 months coming.

And thus the date has been set. Sex plan for the 25th. I will be in town for 5 days afterwards. Let’s see what happens.

Kelly said, “No that story is embarrassing, it makes me look bad!” To which CCG responded, “No it doesn’t, it’s funny. But you don’t have to tell it.” “Well you’ve brought it up, so I have to tell it now.” she said. The story that CCG was so desperate for Kelly to recount to me was that, after their first date they went back to her place, and apparently CCG was being respectful and not presuming anything was going to happen. They had been kissing in the kitchen when apparently Kelly had said, “Stop being so fucking subtle” and pulled him by the collar into her bedroom. I don’t know why CCG was so desperate for me to hear this story, perhaps he was trying to show me how sexually desirable he was. It wasn’t working.

I excused myself and went to the bathroom. The walls were obviously very thin, or perhaps they were just talking very loudly, because I could hear them while I was in there. CCG said, “I can see why you keep her.” Um, what? Am I a pet? A sex slave? Is he saying he sees why she keeps me as a friend? How would he know? He has known me for twenty minutes. Kelly responded, “I know right, she is awesome.” I smiled at this, and waited to see if they would say anything else, but it was quiet. So I rinsed my hands, and went to resume my place on the sex couch.

CCG did not leave us alone for one second that afternoon. I told Kelly about the tough year I was having, the fallout I had had with many friends not understanding my polyamory and judging me for it. That I had had to quit my bartending job to avoid certain people who had hurt me to such a level that I couldn’t be in the same room as them (will do a long post about this stuff in detail at some point. A man named Theo broke my heart over and over again this year, and basically lived in the bar where I worked). We chatted about my views that society can’t handle sexually positive and overt females and so tries to slut shame them. I also spoke about the struggles I was having with my thesis. CCG tried to involve himself constantly on every topic. He repeatedly interrupted both Kelly and I. Kelly would respond with, “Babe, I’m talking.” Or “Babe I’m in the middle of a sentence” but he would just ignore her, and carry on talking over her. I tried to keep talking when he interrupted me, focusing my speech at Kelly, because I really didn’t care what CCG had to say or thought about what I was saying. His interjections sounded as though they were directly copy-pasted from Wikipedia to his lips. I find this a lot with people who are desperate to be thought of as smart: They use very big words and phrases they have memorized, for example, he kept saying, “yes it’s an ad hominem fallacy”. Why not just say, “yes, they’re attacking you personally instead of engaging with your argument/belief system.” It means the same thing. Using big words does not make you smart, and in this case, it made him look like a pretentious douche. Because he repeated that phrase about 7 times.

He also repeatedly told me how attractive I was, how he could see why Kelly was so attracted to me, and asked if I would be keen to “play around” with both of them later that evening. I tried to avoid the questions, because, yes I wanted to sleep with Kelly, but I did not want to sleep with CCG. I didn’t want him anywhere near me. So I either ignored the questions, or laughed and then changed the subject. At one point, perhaps CCG is not as obtuse as I thought, and was getting the hint, CCG said, “Of course, if just you and Kelly want to reconnect alone together I would be okay with that. I would be really upset, and I would probably listen at the door, but I would be okay with it.” I so desperately wanted to say, “Yes that’s what I want!!! Thank you! Thank you!” But I didn’t say anything. I don’t really know why. Maybe I have a problem being assertive. Maybe I didn’t want to hurt CCG’s feelings, let him know how unattractive I found him to his face. I think it was a combination of those, as well as being in their personal space and wanting to keep Kelly happy. And when CCG said this, Kelly didn’t say anything. Which seemed to indicate that if any sex was to happen, she wanted CCG to be involved. History was repeating itself: If I wanted to fuck Kelly, I was going to have to let the creepy man she was attracted to be involved.

Kelly cooked us supper, it was an ostrich stew with rice. I had never eaten ostrich before, and didn’t really like the taste of it, but I didn’t want to offend her so I ate most of it. While we ate we watched “Rock of Ages”, the three of us on the couch, with Kelly, thankfully, in the middle, so that I could easily brush against her and smell the sweet combination of her sweat and her skin. I’d never seen Rock of Ages before, I found it entertaining and enjoyed a lot of the music, occasionally singing along to some of the songs (yes, I am one of THOSE people). At one point CCG said, “Oh, she knows Whitesnake! What a turn on.” I feel as though someone needs to sit CCG down and just tell him he is trying way too hard. When the movie ended CCG came to sit next to me and asked, “So are you keen for anything to happen?” I swallowed. I realized there was another reason I found him so unappealing, and that was his accent and his lisp. I won’t mention his exact accent as I don’t want to give away too much about my actual location, but it isn’t one I find particularly appealing. And there was something very strange about the way he moved his mouth and formed his words, something almost childlike, which seemed very odd on this grown, hairy, bearded, pierced, 2 tone hair-dyed man. I had picked up on it right away, and couldn’t stop focusing on it. I once found someone with a lisp really attractive, so maybe it was just that it was the lisp, combined with the accent, combined with his general demeanor and eagerness. I felt like quite a bitch when I discovered why he had the lisp. It had come up in conversation that afternoon that CCG had taken 2 weeks leave recently due to needing dental surgery. Apparently his inept dentist had put braces on him as a young child without realizing that his milk teeth hadn’t fallen out yet, and with nowhere to go, his adult teeth had grown up into his upper jaw, while his milk teeth rotted and decayed. Thus his entire top row of teeth was actually a denture, but I didn’t realize this til the next morning when I saw them soaking in a glass on the basin. But even with the backstory, and knowing it made me a bitch, I still found it really unappealing. He had also mentioned that since he had had this surgery so recently, he wasn’t allowed to use his jaw much, and so he couldn’t go down on anyone for a while. I celebrated in my head, hoping this meant that he wouldn’t try to engage with me too much.

In response to his question, “So are you keen for anything to happen?” I said, “Um, it’s likely, but I want to go out first. I’m almost never in this town and I want to go out”. In reality, I wanted more alcohol to make me feel less awkward. The glass of wine with supper had not been enough. He said, “Okay but kiss me first.” So I did. He had a very big mouth and he kind of slobbered on me a lot around my mouth from opening his mouth too wide. I pulled away from him as quick as I could without seeming rude, and then Kelly pulled me toward her and kissed me. It lasted for much longer and she tasted distantly familiar. After we broke apart she said, “I’ve been wanting to do that since you walked in the door.” I smiled at her. CCG broke in and said, “We can go out but we don’t have any money, we only have our wedding fund, and we can’t spend any of that.” So I offered to buy them each a drink, because I desperately wanted to get out of the house for a bit, and I hoped that maybe at a bar I might be able to get Kelly alone a bit more. They agreed, and while Kelly and I put on some make-up, CCG put on some of the scariest metal plated platform shoes I have ever seen. Having had my right foot cracked by a man wearing a shoe very similar to that in 2007, I prayed he would be keeping his feet away from me. Kelly then put on some ridiculously high stilettos. Apparently having the alcohol tolerance of a small squirrel Kelly appeared to be already stumbling all over the place after only one glass of wine, and her chosen shoes for the evening were not helping.

We got into CCG’s car and he drove us to a smoky bar, his metal music blasting the whole way there making conversation impossible. The night was hot and a gust of humid air hit us as we got out the car so that we were sweating by the time we entered the bar. I got us each a drink, flirting with the bartender a little because now I was in a flirty, come hither mood. CCG made a point of putting an arm around both of us as much as possible, as if to say to ever other man in the room, “Yup, they’re BOTH mine. Wanna compare dick size now???”. This annoyed me to no end. Yes I had resigned myself to probably having to fuck him, but I did not feel like being paraded around as this asshole’s trophy. So I kept claiming that the alcohol had “gone straight through me” and dragging Kelly off to the bathroom with me, where, thankfully, CCG could not come in (well, not unless he wanted a lot of dirty looks from all the girls in it.) We locked ourselves into a stall and made out for ten minutes, until eventually CCG came knocking on the main bathroom door shouting out for us to hurry the fuck up.

CCG then made a point of making out with us each in turn, and then expecting us to make out in front of him. It all felt quite staged, but I went along with it, enjoying kissing Kelly, and allowing CCG to slobber on me as long as was polite. I did not hide the fact that I wiped mouth every time after he kissed me. When I went to buy us some shots the bartender asked me why I was kissing everyone, and I just shrugged. He asked me if I would kiss him, and I said, sure okay, but then a woman appeared behind the bar and he whispered that that was his girlfriend and that he would try to find me later.

I had the sudden urge to smoke. Maybe it was the horniness, the feeling of being watched in a bar, all the smoke around me, the alcohol, but I needed a cigarette. I hadn’t smoked in 2 weeks, I had been trying to quit, and it turned out CCG had also been trying to quit, and hadn’t smoked in 3 months. I didn’t care. I found the box of cigarettes still in my handbag from weeks before and realized there was only one left. I said to CCG, “I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to quit, but I need one. I will just have the one.” He said, “It’s fine, just give me a drag because otherwise you will taste bad.” I wished I did, maybe then he would stop. He took several drags, and the cigarette was soon gone. I craved another. I spotted a relatively attractive man in his forties smoking and I sauntered over and asked him for a cigarette. He was very obliging. I leaned forward so that he could light my cigarette, and enjoyed the attention he was giving me. I realized that Kelly and CCG were arguing about something, so I entertained myself for the next half an hour or so by seeing how many of the men in this bar would give me a cigarette. Now, in the small town I am from, I am not considered that attractive. The people who do know about my polyamory, most of them think it is odd, some have gone as far as to call me a “whore”. Maybe it is the fact that I have lived here for 6 years and everybody knows everyone in this tiny student town, so there is nothing novel about me anymore. But it seems as though every time I go to a big city I am leered at by men. It’s refreshing. It’s an ego boost. I realized that I could probably have slept with quite a few people at that bar if I had wanted to. This made me feel good.

Eventually I wondered back to CCG and Kelly to find out what was going on, and because I was starting to get bored. They both stood up as I arrived and CCG said, “Just wait here, we need to go and draw money.” And so they just left me there, before I could say, “I thought you didn’t have any money?”. So I sat in the corner smoking my many cigarettes which I had accumulated for about twenty minutes until they reappeared. They said, “Let’s go”, but I said I had money for one more drink why don’t we share it? And they agreed. I got one more drink, and left it with CCG for a bit, who also took my cigarette out of my hand, and Kelly and I went to the bathroom for a bit. She didn’t seem shy about peeing in front of me, and so I did the same, but there was nothing sexual about it.

By the time we got back CCG had finished both the drink and the cigarette. Oh well, guess it was time to leave then. I realized they were still fighting as we got into the car and CCG punched something into the GPS. It was going something like this:

CCG: But it’s our wedding fund and now we have to go there in the middle of the night.

Kelly: Babe, but I am jonesing for one so bad! Please don’t be mad at me!

CCG: But you’re already drunk!

Kelly: Yes, but I want a joint!

They continued like this for quite a while ad nauseum. We arrived at some affluent suburb, CCG’s music still blaring, trying to locate the drug dealer. Kelly the number she had for him, and a phone rang somewhere to our right. He was standing behind a large gate. As he let us in, he said, “Jees, you guys were making such a noise.” We had just been told off by a drug dealer.

In 2009 I met a girl, let’s call her Kelly. I didn’t know it then, but she would become the benchmark by which I would measure all women I would later be attracted to. I was instantly attracted to Kelly and was very pleased to discover that she, too, was bisexual. We both took part in a nude photo exhibition as part of a “My Body My Choice” campaign and ended up hanging out a lot during the process – plus when the photos were exhibited we got to see each other in various states of undress. We’d now seen each other naked and it wasn’t awkward, thankfully.

Kelly appeared to be as drawn to me as I was to her. There was just one problem: Kelly did not know what the fuck she wanted! Having gotten out of a 6-year relationship which imploded about a year earlier, Kelly had since been playing the field and not committing to anything. In 2009 I had not yet begun exploring polyamory, I wanted a committed exclusive relationship. I wanted Kelly to be my girlfriend. And Kelly wanted to fuck people. A lot. And so Kelly and I began fooling around, hanging out a lot, cuddling, making out, groping. We hadn’t had sex yet. One night we were out in a group of friends and Kelly had brought along this weasel of a man with a ponytail whom she apparently found attractive

DISCLAIMER: I later started sleeping with this weasel of a man, so I eventually understood the attraction. That doesn’t change the fact that he is a douche, and also, quite slimey. I just have a penchant for slimey, douche weasels.

But at this stage I found SlimeyMan to be quite unappealing. He was drooling all over Kelly, and she appeared to be very into it. She was also acting really into me though, groping both of us at this bar we had gone to, the rest of the group having disappeared realizing that something strange was going on with the three of us. At one point SlimeyMan went to the bathroom, and Kelly kissed me, then said “Taylor, I can’t make up my mind. I want you both. Could we all go to your place?” I have never been very good at saying, “No” to people I am really attracted to and desperately want to fuck, and I realized that if I wanted to fuck Kelly, it appeared that I was going to have to fuck SlimeyMan too, or at least let him be involved. I had had one threesome before, when I had just turned 18, and it had been awkward, and with a couple who had broken up. She had been into him, he was into me, and then she hated me. So, it was not a pleasant threesome. I did not know what to expect from this one, but I was afraid it would be just as awkward. Both SlimeyMan and I really wanted to fuck Kelly, and were relatively indifferent to one another.

So we went back to my place to fuck. I proceeded to drink more than I usually would, trying to give myself some courage and force myself to relax. I suggested we stay in my lounge and do it on the couch, as my room was in total chaos, and I had hidden all the random shit and hung up washing in there in case I had people over, and they wouldn’t think I was a crazy hoarder who never cleans up. Kelly wanted to fuck on my futon though, so she insisted on going into my room, and carrying my washing and any other random shit lying on the bed – which included dirty clothes, random books, shoes and other embarrassing shit which are a reminder of the mundane, everyday life as opposed to being even remotely related to fun or sexiness – into the lounge. Once she was satisfied my room was now suitable, she dragged us both into it. I can’t really remember much of this threesome to be honest, I had drunk far too much and it happened nearly 4 years ago now. I remember it not being as awkward as I thought it would be, I remember wanting to focus on Kelly, but trying to do stuff with SlimeyMan also to try and make the threesome work, and make her happy. That’s one of the things about my relationship and friendship with Kelly, I’ve always wanted to give her what she wanted. I remember kissing her breasts and playing with her clit while he fucked her. I remember him going down on me at one point, very roughly so I didn’t enjoy it. I remember making out with her a lot, and a little with him. I remember going down on her while he fucked me at one point. I also remember I didn’t come at all that night. Things were strained, and a bit awkward the next morning. They both kissed me goodbye, and I remember feeling relieved when I had my house to myself again. I was also elated at having been able to get so physically close to Kelly the night before.

It had certainly been an experience, but it wasn’t something I had enjoyed very much overall. Thankfully things did not become awkward between Kelly and I; in fact, shortly after the threesome, she told me she had real feelings for me, and that maybe after we got back from the 2 week vacation coming up we could try being in an actual relationship. I was ecstatic. The threesome compromise had paid off, and she had chosen me. She went to Place by the Sea for her holiday, and I went to Tiny Annoying Town to see my parents for a while. Kelly and I chatted a lot over text for the first week, but suddenly she got really quiet. At first I didn’t think anything was up, and didn’t really mind. But I did miss her a lot, and was looking forward to getting back to see her. And then on the Friday before term was to start again, I noticed the following on facebook: Kelly is now in a relationship with Some Random Man. I couldn’t believe it. I was hoping it was a joke, like how friends sometime pretend they are married or dating or whatever on facebook because they think it’s amusing.

It wasn’t a joke. As soon as I got back I asked Kelly if I could see her, and she said “Yes, that’ll be good, I’ve missed you and also, there is something I need to tell you.” I already knew, she had made it facebook public for fucksakes. She told me she was devastated to hurt me, but that over the holiday she had met “the man she was going to marry.” I think I was quite pathetic. I cried a lot, and we hugged a lot, and we lay on her bed together. I remember resting my head on her breast. She would always wear these soft knit jerseys, and she smelt like perfume and wool and skin. How she went from total commitment phobia to “I’m going to marry this man, even though I have only known him for 2 weeks, and we’re starting our relationship by making it long distance” I don’t know. But she wanted him, she had decided, and it was final. We agreed to stay friends, but we parted ways romantically at that stage. At the end of that year, she finished her degree and moved back home to Place by the Sea. I stayed on to do my post-grad. Although we stayed in contact, we wouldn’t see each other in person again until this year.

CREEPYCREEPYGUY aka OH GOD WHY?

Kelly did not marry Some Random Guy, they broke up after about a year and a half. The mean, jealous part of me felt somewhat vindicated by this, even though I was now in a relationship with Ron. I never met Some Random Guy, and she has never really told me too much about why they broke up, but I know that they fought a lot. Kelly’s taste in men has always sucked horribly (although I’m one to talk I guess), and she is currently engaged to be married to CreepyCreepyGuy (CCG for short). The wedding is to take place in December, God help us all. Why such an incredible creature has decided to become legally attached to CCG, one can only speculate, for there cannot be a logical answer. I had only seen photos of CCG before this year, and on meeting him, my original opinion of his unattractiveness was confirmed.

DISCLAIMER: My dislike for CCG is not subtle, I find him very unattractive and very unappealing. However, my dislike for him may have been intensified by my intense feelings for Kelly, and jealousy that he gets to share her life in a way that I don’t, as her primary partner. So feel free to read all of my encounters and descriptions of him through that lens. My descriptions of events are entirely honest, however. And he really is a douche.

To give you a bit of a timeline, having met up and slept with The Shy Boy from Chapter 1 on Thursday night, and spent the day with him Friday, I went to stay with Kelly and CCG on Saturday night. Kelly and I had, separately, both started exploring Polyamory this year, and so I wasn’t sure what to expect when I went to go and see her. I knew that I was still attracted to her, and still feel as though she never really gave our relationship a chance; but all of our text and facebook communication had been friendly, and not overtly flirty. Perhaps we were both too scared to broach the subject before the meeting. She lives with CCG in a small flat in a large complex about 30 minutes drive from my brother’s place. Thus she suggested that he drop me off. I would stay for supper and a movie, stay over, and then she and CCG would drive me back the next day.

Not sure what to expect; I tried to accentuate the stern but sexy librarian look again: wearing a grey and black knit dress (because I know how much Kelly loves knits), tight fitting with a loose polo neck (so no visible cleavage), and a belt as usual to give me the appearance of an hour glass figure. I wore my red hair up in a tight bun, some patterned leggings, black boots and bright red lipstick. I felt attractive, but not overtly sexual. I hadn’t brought any matching underwear with me on this trip – because I actually had no idea I would be getting naked in front of people as much as I did when I packed – and so turquoise panties and a purple wonderbra were going to have to do. Having learnt something from the Scott incident, I packed quite an extensive overnight bag, this time fully prepared for the weather to change. I was not going to have to trek through mud again in 3 quarter pants, that was for sure.

I was dropped off at the gate to Kelly’s apartment complex, and told my brother he could go. I texted Kelly that I had arrived. The wind was bitingly cold, making my eyes water and going straight through the knit of my dress to my skin. It made my nipples hard, and I hoped that Kelly and CCG wouldn’t notice. While I waited, a car drove out and the gate opened, and so I wondered in. I had no idea what number apartment Kelly was in, so I just loitered in the parking lot for a while. I knew that she lived with CCG, and had not yet met him at this stage, but I hoped that maybe he wouldn’t be there, or that he would be willing to give us some space so that we could catch up just the two of us. Sex wasn’t really even on my mind at this point, I just wanted some time alone with Kelly after all these years apart. I was suddenly aware of the huge overnight bag at my side, and I hoped Kelly wouldn’t think I was trying to move in permanently. And then I saw her. She’d walked down some stairs and stepped out into view, her hair pulled back into an easy ponytail. She was beaming at me. I beamed back and she shouted, “Hello you!” and pulled me into a tight hug. I closed my eyes as the smell of her brought back memories; desires for her which had been long since filed away into a distant folder.

We immediately fell into an easy, comfortable space, as if we hadn’t been apart at all. As we made our way up the stairs to her flat, she asked me how I was, and I began to recount the Scott story to her, explaining to her how I was really sad that he had promised to text me, and hadn’t. We entered her small flat, and it was in chaos. Her kitchen and lounge were in one room, separated by a counter, and both were filled with clothes, washing, gaming consoles, and general paraphernalia. I didn’t mind much, as this tends to be how I live. She also has 2 small dogs and 2 cats. As I was about to lean down to pat the dogs, a man appeared out of a room to my left. I had seen pictures of him, and I could tell by his two-tone hair (half of his hair is dyed bright pink, and the other bright blue. I think he is going for like a punky look?) down to his shoulders that this was CCG. And he had no pants on. Seriously, he knew I was coming over, knew Kelly had gone to let me in, and he had no pants on. No freaking pants! Just underwear. This was actually a good introduction to his personality: a kind of forceful, I don’t care if I make you feel uncomfortable, you WILL pay attention to me attitude. He said, “Sorry! I was just on a conference call, and didn’t have a chance to get dressed.” Kelly laughed and said, “Taylor this is CCG, CCG this is Taylor.” “Hi.” I said.

“Hi” he said, smiling, and then disappearing into their bedroom.

Kelly led me to their couch which has been set up in front of a large television, hooked up to a computer. We chatted some more about Scott, as I was bombarded by her dogs, and I began to tell her about what sleeping with Scott had been like. This might seem odd, but Kelly and I have always been extremely open with each other when it comes to talking about our personal lives. Besides, I’m always accused of oversharing. Thankfully she doesn’t seem to see it that way. Kelly was in the middle of telling me she didn’t think I would be hearing from Scott again, based on his behavior, and that I should try to forget about him, when CCG walked into the room and literally interrupted her in the middle of her sentence. He did this a lot while I was there. In fact you could play a drinking game: Take a shot every time CCG interrupts someone midsentence, take a double when it is his own fiancé. You would be catatonic and in need of a liver transplant within about 2 hours. As he came into the room I realized that their bedroom door had been open and he had been listening to every word I had said. He plonked himself down on a stool in front of us and said, “I want to hear more of the story.” I responded, “Well that’s pretty much the whole thing. Something I was hoping would be more seems to have turned into a one-night stand.” He responded, “Well, he is an idiot. You know if you lose those clothes later maybe Kelly and I could help you forget all about him.”

I nearly fell off the couch. Here I was, his fiance’s sort of ex-girlfriend, whom he had JUST met 6 minutes ago, and he had already proposed a threesome. I remember thinking “Holy shit I am going to be stuck with him, because I have to stay here tonight.” Kelly laughed and said, “Baby, that has to be the fastest you’ve ever propositioned someone. Taylor, you’ve inspired a new record.” Not knowing what else to do I laughed and said, “Yeah, what was that, like a whole 6 minutes?” CCG said, “Well, we’ve been having some good success with threesomes lately. In fact just last weekend we were fucking another girl right where you are sitting” he said, gesturing at me. He turned to Kelly, saying, “And, what’s wrong with that? I mean she came in here talking about sex.”

Okay fine, yes I did. But to KELLY. Someone I have known for 4 years. Someone I have been intimate with, and have a friendship with. And even if I did start talking about sex immediately to a total stranger, does that automatically mean I am easy, that I will be happy to be immediately propositioned by and fuck that stranger? Apparently in CCG’s world, yes. Yes, it does.

Not yet sure how I felt about sitting right where they had apparently been fucking someone – although I am sure we all do this every day, having no idea – I said, “Yes, I did come in talking about sex because I was trying to ask Kelly for advice.” He ignored that comment and said, “Hang on, babe, is this THE Taylor?” He turned to me without waiting for a response from Kelly, “Are you THAT Taylor?” Having no fucking idea what he was referring to, I just raised my eyebrows while Kelly said, “Yes, she is that Taylor.”

“Awesome!” CCG said. ”I get to meet the woman you had your first threesome with! And wow, I can see why.” Kelly laughed at this, apparently used to CCG being horribly embarrassing. Well, she must be, if she is going to marry him. I laughed awkwardly, suppressing my urge to bolt out of the room as I really wanted to spend time with Kelly. I said, “Yeah I guess I’m that Taylor.” He raised his hand to me, expecting a high five, while saying, “So I guess I have you to thank for the fact that my wife-to-be is so kinky.” Not knowing what else to do, I gave him a lackluster high five. I became conspicuously aware that he was staring at my breasts. If he could have been drooling, he would have been. It wasn’t subtle either, he didn’t care that I knew he was staring at them. He was literally leaning forward on his stool, eyes locked on my chest. I found some great renditions of what CCG looks like in my head:

(Those artists are all awesome, go check out their pages.)

Now I am forward, and I overshare a lot, but Holy Hell I had never experienced someone this blatant and forward before in my life. Desperate to fill the awkward, breast staring silence, I said, “Wow I haven’t thought about that threesome in a long time. You know I was only sleeping with SlimeyMan because I wanted to sleep with you?”

Kelly smiled at this, and said “I know, and I love you for it. Looking back I had a much better time with you, I should have just chosen to go home with you. But it certainly was an experience.”

I smiled back at her, saying, “Yes it was.” I was elated that she had said that she loved me for it. Present tense, not past. She reached out and touched my shoulder, saying, “I was so happy to hear that you guys might be moving here next year. And also that you and Ron are polyamorous now. I feel like, we never really got to explore, you and I. We never really got the chance to fully experience our relationship.” I bit back a response that, yes, that was because she had chosen someone else over me. “And if you move here, maybe that’s something we could try and explore again.” As she said those words, I realized I had desperately been hoping for this, desperately hoping she would still want me. That it wasn’t just me who had been asking, “What if?” all these years. I grinned at her, placing my hand over hers, and said, “I’d like that.”

At this point CCG piped up, saying, “Hey Kelly did you ever tell her about our first date? You should tell her that story!” Oh for fucksake, I forgot he was still here!

To be Continued…

In Chapter 2 Part 2: TRYING TO TAKE THE PLUNGE and THE (ALMOST) SEX.

In Chapter 2, Part 3: THE MORNING AFTER and AFTERMATH aka NEEDING TO MAKE BETTER DECISIONS AND BE MORE ASSERTIVE.

Please note this post follows on from Part 2. The story continues directly.

Chapter 1: The Shy Boy, part 3.

THE MORNING AFTER

I did not sleep well in Scott’s bed despite the lovely, soft comforter and the equally lovely and soft human next to me. His dog got under the covers with us, and tried to sleep in between us as often as possible. I would usually have found this cute, but this dog had already made it very clear how she felt about me, and I didn’t really want to sleep naked – except for my red panties – next to her. Scott moved her over to his side of the bed every time that he woke up and discovered her lying in between us, but she just made her way back again when he had fallen asleep again. But it wasn’t just the dog. My brain felt restless. I hadn’t drunk alcohol in about 3 weeks and I had had 4 drinks while we were at the bar and then the club and my stomach was protesting; feeling sensitive and sore. All in all I had around 3 hours of sleep on-and-off.

Scott woke up about 2 hours before his alarm, at around 7am, perhaps due to my restlessness. He smiled at me, kissing my forehead and then my nose. He was remarkably affectionate to me that morning in bed, and throughout the night previously. I was quite surprised by this because we had not defined our relationship; or in fact spoken about it at all in any way, shape or form. We had developed a clear friendship over the months we had chatted over text and online, and we had now clearly established an attraction to one another, but what did sleeping together mean? Maybe something, maybe nothing. I wasn’t sure yet. I had spoken to Scott a lot about being polyamorous and he was fully aware that I had a primary partner back home (I can’t keep referring to him as my primary partner it’s too long and clunky. Let’s go with…Ron). He even admitted having facebook stalked Ron and I to try and see what he looked like, and find out more about our relationship, having never met someone openly polyamorous before. While Scott did say he understood my inability to be monogamous, he said little else regarding how he felt about my polyamory, and about the fact that I was already in a primary relationship. And thus I was surprised by his affection: I usually associate cuddling and affection with relationships in most cases, and more of a physical distance with a one-night-stand vibe. Most of my one-night-stands have not included cuddling or kissing after sex, and very little communication the next morning. A kind of “wham, bam, go away now so I can go back to my life.” I have not had a lot of success in sleeping with friends, it usually ends awkwardly and ruins the friendship (which is annoying and frustrating). And so I had no idea what to expect from Scott.

I liked the fact that he was being affectionate, it made me feel as though we were still close, and that this could turn into some kind of sexual relationship. Scott got out of bed to brush his teeth (I had learnt in my short time there that this boy was obsessed with dental hygiene and brushing his teeth before kissing me much) and so I followed suit and did the same. Looking into the bathroom mirror I realized I looked a bit like a cave woman, with smudged eye makeup and scary, disheveled hair. I tried to smooth my hair out and wipe away my raccoon eyes, without making it look like I had put too much effort into it, as he looked just as good the next morning as he had the night before. As soon as I came back he immediately pulled me onto the bed next to him and he began kissing me. I have always been a fan of an early morning orgasm and so I was instantly wet. He pulled my hips towards him and slipped his fingers underneath my panties as I opened my legs for him. As he explored me with his fingers, I reached out to take hold of his cock and began to give him a handjob. As the mutual masturbation continued and he played with my clit I started to lose my focus. I think the handjob suffered as my mind kept drifting off to bliss. I soon came, with my face buried in his neck, my hand on his cock and my body spasming. After about ten seconds of recovery, I pushed him onto his back, got underneath the blanket and went down on him again. In the same way that I have no idea where to look while receiving oral sex, I equally have no idea where to look while giving it. I know that in porn movies the girls usually look up at the man they are sucking, but alas I have not yet reached porn star confidence. So I was hidden beneath the blanket and he did not attempt to lift it at all. The one problem I have experienced often from going down on someone under a blanket is the increasing feeling of heat and suffocation. I can’t say I am into that. And then the eternal conundrum: Do you spit or swallow? If you’re a guy, do you presume she wants you to come in her mouth, or do you pull out? I have heard very strong opinions on both sides of this one. A female friend I bartended with once said, “If a guy is going to go down on you with all that wetness, the least you can do is swallow.” Another female friend described it as “warm, salty yogurt” and was not a fan of it. A male friend of mine mentioned that he felt it was disrespectful of a woman to presume that it was okay to come in her mouth. And then you get the idiots you have watched too much porn, see themselves as pornstars and presume you want them to come all over your face. No, we really don’t. At least not every time.

I personally usually pull away just before a man comes and use my hand alone for those last few seconds. It’s not that I dislike the taste of it, I don’t, it’s just that the actual act of swallowing it I sometimes find a bit weird. And I don’t know if spitting it out is considered rude. Also, where do you spit it? Do you get up and run away with cum in your mouth? That doesn’t seem like the sexiest, or even politest option. So I decided to leave it up to Scott in this situation: If he indicated he was about to come I would move my mouth away, if he didn’t I would just carry on. He ended up coming quite quickly, and being the silent lover that he is, I had no idea it was going to happen. Suddenly he let out a soft sigh and came in my mouth. My first instinct was to spit it out, but I caught myself half way through, and swallowed. I wiped my mouth, the back of my throat now warm and lay back next to him, saying “Sorry” and gesturing to the small combination of saliva and cum lying on his pubic area. He shrugged and said “No need to apologise.” I rolled over, and he drew me to him, and we spooned like that for a while as I felt his erection gradually subside. His alarm went off and we realized it was 9am.

Scott had mentioned the day before that if I stayed over I would need to come along with him to his University, and hang around while he had one class and then one meeting, and that then we would go out to lunch. The restaurant he had in mind was located near to where my brother works, and so Scott decided he would drop me off at my brother’s work at 6pm so that my brother could drive me back to our side of town. In other words, we were going to be forced to spend the entire day together, til 6pm. That morning I thought this would be an awesome thing, the prospect of hanging out all day with this awesome guy who I had had awesome sex with. I was wrong.

OH GOD THE AWKWARD

I mentioned that I could really use some coffee, and so we began to get out of bed. I realized that I had given Scott a small love bite on his neck the night before. I casually mentioned this to him, and immediately his demeanor changed. He asked “How big?” And I tried to assure him it was very small, but he got out of bed to go and look at it. He came back into the room looking very unhappy, so I added “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten a bit carried away.” I meant that as a compliment, and to try to ease the sudden tension in the room. But he said nothing, and just started putting his pajamas back on. So I got up and did the same. I followed him through to the kitchen and mentioned that I thought he had a really nice set up there. To which he responded, “Yeah I share this section with my parents though.” I sat down at the counter while Scott found a coffee plunger and tried to locate some coffee. He found some sachets, and asked if they would be alright, and I said, “I’m sure they will be” actually having no idea, I haven’t seen a lot of filter coffee that comes in a sachet… It was at about this point that I realized that Scott had no idea how to use a coffee plunger. He asked me if I did, and I said yes, but instead of giving it to me and letting me do it, he decided to go around the kitchen looking for a cookbook to tell him how to use it. I mean it’s a coffee plunger, not Fermat’s theorem! So I offered to try, again, and this time he gave it to me, while opening a cookbook (no doubt one of his mother’s) and trying to lookup how much coffee to use, and how long to leave it for. I, being a coffee addict, have known both those things since I was 12. So I put some coffee in and put the kettle on to boil. At this point, I heard a parrot screech and Scott mentioned, “Oh my mother is about to come through”. Apparently there is a parrot on the other side of the house that screeches when anyone walks past. Not having any energy to deal with the mother of the young boy I had just enjoyably played around with sexually, twice, I offered, “Should I go back to your room then?” And he said, “No, please stay.” Fuck… And I did. In she came, this housewife dressed in a silk dressing gown, into her kitchen. My presence clearly surprised her, as she widened her eyes and stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw me. She tried to recover, and not let me see her shock, as she said sweetly, “Oh, hello there. What a surprise.” Scott just smiled at her, clearly getting a kick out of this. I had inadvertently become a weapon against this boy’s – clearly conservative – mother. He said to her, “We were just trying to figure out how to use the plunger?” Um, no, Scott, we were not. I CAN USE A PLUNGER! So she came over and took it away from me, decided I had put too little coffee in it, and took over the coffee making process. While she was doing this, she decided to engage me in awkward conversation seeing as how Scott was being completely silent. She asked me where I was from, what I was studying etc etc. I did not want to be rude to this woman, but I did not feel like engaging in conversation either considering the current context we were in, so I tried to answer her, but as succinctly as possible. Eventually she left the kitchen, giving me strict instructions to push down the plunger after exactly 4 minutes.

And so Scott and I engaged in awkward cereal eating, and coffee drinking. I laughed and shook my head at the situation after his mom had left, but he said nothing. I reached out with my foot and I ran it along his leg, and he responded by smiling at me and putting his hand on my leg for a bit, but everything had started to feel strange, and forced. We went back to his room where he asked me if I wanted to shower, and I declined, knowing that I had none of my hair products with me and scared that my hair would go horribly frizzy without them. So he went off to shower. Scott spent about half an hour in the shower. I don’t know what he was doing in there, perhaps contemplating the complex nature of coffee plungers, but it felt like a century. I got dressed, cleaned up a bit, and waited. And waited. And waited. I snooped around his bookshelf a bit, but then got bored. I was also completely freezing. The weather had changed and I had only brought some 3 quarter pants with me to change into, with a Chinese style short sleeved top and a light coat. He eventually emerged from the shower, and offered to lend me some of his socks to go with my ankle boots, seeing how freezing I was. I accepted. He got dressed in front of me, but as soon he was dry and fully clothed I felt an immediate distance coming from him. I tried to get one last kiss in before we left. I held onto his jacket and pulled him towards me, but he turned it into a soft peck and then pulled away, with the comment “No more biting from you”, obviously referring to his love bite. And so we left for campus.

On the drive I started trying to ask him pointed questions so that I knew how to behave around him. I asked him how he felt about Public Displays of Affection, and he said he didn’t really mind them if they are with a girlfriend, but otherwise he tends to avoid them. I spoke a little bit about Ron, I can’t really remember how he came up in conversation, and then I offered to not speak about him if it made Scott feel uncomfortable? He said, “No, it’s fine, he is a part of your life, so talk about him.” And things kind of grew quiet. He offered to show me a famous monument I had never been to before; he usually parks there as it is quite near campus and parking on campus is virtually impossible. We looked at it, and then started the remarkably long walk down to campus. Scott was walking very fast, and I was struggling to keep up, but trying not to show him how out of breath I was, afraid he would think of me as very unfit. We eventually got down to campus about 15 to 20 mins later, and he gave me a very brief tour before dashing off to his class. This campus is much bigger than my own, and I felt a bit overwhelmed. So I found the nearest coffee shop, got some more coffee to try wake myself up some more, and found a newspaper to read. As I waited for about an hour I got increasingly more tired, my lack of sleep catching up with me. Eventually Scott re-appeared and took me to a separate part of campus where there was a different coffee shop and a café selling food. We ran into someone he knew, and he introduced me as his friend, and then we sat there with her for a bit. They were chatting mainly about things and people I didn’t know much about, such as when assignments were due, what mutual friends were up to and the like. I tried to be friendly, but wasn’t really involved in the conversation, and was becoming increasingly more grumpy and tired as the day wore on. She left, and so Scott and I wondered around for a bit, coming across a Samsung expo. To my surprise Scott was extremely rude to the salespeople there as he complained about how big their latest cellphones were, and declining their offer of free t shirts and mugs. I happen to like free stuff, but I didn’t dare take any for fear of judgment from Scott who seemed to be becoming increasingly weirder.

Scott wandered off to his meeting, and I was left to read my fantasy novel. I was extremely hungry by this point, and even though I knew Scott wanted to take me out for lunch, it was approaching 2pm, and so I bought some food from the café anyway. I would just pretend I hadn’t eaten. I actually considered putting my head down at this random table in this building and sleeping, but I was afraid of being robbed, and so decided against it. Reading just made me sleepier, and so I had even more coffee to try wake myself up, but it just seemed to be making me jittery. I bought some bubblegum in case Scott decided to kiss me, but I need not have worried. By the time Scott got back to me at around 2:30pm, it was pouring with rain outside. We had to trudge back up the hill getting absolutely soaked, some of the way through ankle deep mud and splashing all over my bare legs. By the time we got to his car I was literally shivering all over, my wet hair sticking to my face. As we had gone up the path way I made a joke about being unfit, because I was trying again not to show him how out of breath I was, but was failing horribly. He made a snide comment about how being healthy means being fit. I responded sarcastically with, “Thank you, Captain Health Conscious!” and a salute. We barely spoke in the car, I was beginning to feel hurt by his distance, and this coupled with my irritability and exhaustion did not make me feel like talking. We parked, and had to run in the rain to the restaurant a few blocks away. Because I was tired of not knowing where I was standing with him, I decided this was a great time to bring up sex.

I asked if he often had one night stands, to which he responded, “No, not often,” and then I ventured, “Well, me neither. I really dislike sleeping with someone and then never speaking to them again, it just seems ridiculous.” To this he responded, “Oh, well I will keep that in mind.” I didn’t know how to take that. Had he been intending to stop speaking to me? Had the day been that bad? Were we no longer friends? Had a one-night-stand all he had been after? So I asked, “Well is it something you would want to do again?” He nearly tripped and fell over when I asked this. Maybe due to not being used to directness, or out of sheer horror at the thought, who can tell? “Do IT again?” – I don’t know why he emphasized IT so hectically, but he did. “You mean, have a relationship?” he asked. Apparently to Scott having sex with one person more than once is a relationship. So I replied, “No, I just meant, you know, randomly hookup.” So he responded, “Well it certainly wasn’t unpleasant, don’t think that. I don’t know, I just like to take things as they come.” We had arrived at the restaurant by now, and were seated. I did not feel as though our conversation was over, as there was more I wanted to discuss. So I asked him if he had had much sex this year, and he looked a bit sheepish and replied, “No, none at all this year actually. I’ve been very busy.” So I thought maybe if he knew that Ron and don’t have sex very much that it might make him feel more comfortable (I blame my exhaustion for my idiocy at bringing up my sex life with Ron at this point in time), and he just stared at me open mouthed and gestured to the people around us, as if he could not believe I was talking about sex in restaurant. Now I hadn’t actually mentioned sex at all, I had been using euphemisms, and the actual sentence had been, “I’m not judging, Ron and I actually have a very strange relationship, we don’t really” (insert hand gesture here) “very often.” So I said, “What? I haven’t said anything, I am using euphemisms,” and he gave me quite a mocking disbelieving look and said, “That’s like saying, “When was the last time you had a Oogie Boogie Burger?”” (We were at a restaurant with really strange burger names, and he was referring to one on the menu, I can’t remember what it was, so Oogie Boogie Burger it is.). I don’t know if it was the way he said it, so judgmentally, or what he said or both, but I was incredibly embarrassed. I flushed bright red, and stared down at my drink and went totally silent. Basically, he had been embarrassed to be there with me, talking about this. And that really hurt. He tried to mumble something about how he had been joking, but then halfway said, “Never mind.”

We sat in awkward silence for a while, and then spoke a bit about potential career hopes, and he told me I should get my food take away because they wrap it up in a foil swan. When I did, and it came in a box he was sad, and went on a lament about the lack of a foil swan. We were basically just speaking to each other because we had to, we needed to kill time til 5,30pm when we would leave to meet my brother. FINALLY, it was time to go, and we left. He parked outside the boomgate leading towards my brother’s building, and I just sat there for a bit. I didn’t know what to say to him, and I didn’t know how this day had all gone so wrong. I apologized at that point for being so tired. He said he had been wondering if he needed to make amends for something, and I mentioned my embarrassment at the restaurant, how I didn’t think I had been talking that loudly, and didn’t understand why it was a big deal. He said he was sorry if he offended me. I explained that I was just feeling irritable and sensitive thanks to the exhaustion. He commented, “Oh okay, that’s a lot of separate things.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Then he asked, “Why are you so exhausted?” And I mentioned that I didn’t sleep well. He suddenly looked quite offended and said, “Oh, was it because you were sleeping next to a strange man?” As that had not been the case at all, I really really didn’t want him to think that, and I said no, my brain just wouldn’t switch off, but I don’t know if he believed me. Not knowing what else to say, I hugged him goodbye, he said he would text me, and I opened his door, accidentally scraping the bottom edge lightly against the sidewalk as the door flew out of my hand as we were parked on an incline. I grabbed it, and quickly pulled it off, and he tensely said, “try not to let go of it.” I nodded, and slammed the door, managing to close it even as it tried to knock me over. I ran through the rain away from his car feeling utterly sad.

AFTERMATH

I sent him a message shortly after he dropped me thanking him for everything, and he responded, “I hope a stranger will show me around their town someday.” So we were strangers then I guess. I didn’t hear from Scott again that evening, nor the next morning. I sent him am message stating that I was staying with a friend that Saturday evening, and that it was nearby to him, and I could be dropped off at his place Sunday morning if he was keen. No reply. I sent him a message mentioning I was leaving on Tuesday. No reply. Much later in the evening, emboldened by alcohol, I sent him a message which said, “Should I take your lack of responses as a sign that I should just write this thing off?” He replied with, “Sorry hang on.” Then nothing.

On Monday afternoon, after still nothing (not sure what I was s’posed to be hanging on for) I bit the bullet and messaged him again, feeling incredibly sad, as this was someone who, before this incident, I had talked to everyday by text, and considered a friend. I said, “I just thought you should know that I am incredibly hurt by your ignoring of me and lack of responses because I kind of thought we were still going to be friends. I guess I won’t be seeing you again. Enjoy graduation.” He responded with, “I’m sorry. Thursday and Friday were incredibly busy and I have needed time alone since then.” It felt like a pretty lame excuse seeing as how I was only in town for a few days, but I responded with, “You could have just told me that. It would have made me feel a lot less crap.” No reply.

A few days later, not able to shake my feelings of insecurity this experience had brought on, I messaged him again looking for more answers. I asked if he had been upset with me. I mentioned I had a great time with him Thursday evening, and that I was sorry the day had gotten weird. He said that human interaction exhausts him, that he had been with me, and then been to a function, and that it had totally drained him. And that seemed to be all he was willing to say. I asked if it was possible if we would go back to not being weird, and he said sure, and we chatted a bit, about superficial trivial things. He has barely messaged me since then, and so, unfortunately, things HAVE been weird. When I touched down in my next city, I let him know I had arrived and that I was sorry I hadn’t been able to see more of him while I was in Place by the Sea. He responded with, “Don’t worry about it 🙂 We have forever to hangout again.” Indeed. A very convenient thing to say when I have just flown 18 hours away.

Typing this all up has made me realize how sad this whole thing made me, and also reminded me that I need to learn when it is no longer worth the effort, when to stop texting people, and also to be careful of letting my emotions get involved. I miss talking to Scott, and I still have no idea what really caused him to decide not to see me again while I was there. I have no idea if we will ever meet up again in person. Even if I do move to Place by the Sea, I somehow doubt it.

Please note that this is a continuation of the previous post, the story follows on directly.

Chapter 1:The Shy Boy, part 2

THE SEX

Scott got into bed next to me, and lo and behold, on to the bed jumps his dog. This canine really did not want Scott to be giving another woman so much attention. Jealousy issues. He moaned at her, and asked her to get off the bed, rather politely I might add. She just stared at him, and glared at me. Realising he was not going to win this one, he shrugged and began to kiss me. I can’t say I had ever had sex with an angry dog on the bed before, but oh well, there is a first time for everything. Horniness levels approaching a peak, the dog on the bed issue was filed away with the “oh God his parents are in the house right at this moment issue”, and I forgot about it quickly.

Scott. Is. An. Amazing. Kisser. He still smelt amazing, and as the kissing grew more passionate he got on top of me. I could feel his hard-on through his pajama pants pressing against me, and felt a surge of lust. I wanted to rip off his clothes, but, still unsure of his level of sexual experience (He’d told me he had had 7 sexual activity partners in his lifetime, I think that is about average for a 22 year old male? Not sure. Depends on the male. Males let me know in the comments section!) and preferences I decided to let him take the lead. Besides, I was in the mood to be controlled. I was a little worried that he wasn’t going to initiate sex and that despite his hard on he just wanted to make-out and cuddle seeing as how we had only met in person about 4 hours previously. Thankfully these fears were unfounded. He began to move between kissing my mouth and my neck and with his left hand he began to explore my right breast, and could feel my hardened nipple through my thin purple t-shirt. Without any prodding from me expect for maybe increasingly heavy breathing and more intense kissing from my side, he lifted up my t-shirt to caress my breast skin-on-skin. His bedside lamp was on at this stage, so we could see each other easily in the soft lighting, and the visual aspect of the whole thing turned me on further. I took off his t shirt and ran my fingers down his long, smooth back digging my nails in just enough for him to know how badly I wanted him but not enough to cause pain. He took my t shirt off, and we continued to kiss – now both topless. I nibbled on his neck, and then he moved down taking off my purple pajama pants, kissing my lower stomach area softly, and then sliding off my red panties.

Then I did something which I kind of wish I hadn’t, in hindsight, seeing as how I doubt we will be sleeping together again (you’ll understand why by the end of this chapter). I asked him to turn off the light. For some reason I was suddenly feeling insecure about my body, and my vagina. I have ALWAYS felt insecure about my vagina because my right inner labia is extremely over sized. Now I have seen a lot of vaginas in my life, some up close, some just on the internet or television but I have NEVER seen a vagina that looks like mine. Some women appear to have both labia very large, or both very small. Some even appear a little lopsided, but mine is extremely noticeable. It’s basically the first thing you see, this one giant oversized labia, and this other extremely small one. Some men, fumbling around down there, have even mistaken my right, big labia for my clitoris. Yeah. Fail. And it’s kind of awkward wanting to say, “Hey by the way dude, THAT’S NOT MY CLITORIS.” I have become a lot more vocal over the years during sex, giving instructions such as “yes, more of that” or “a bit more gently” as well as just getting more into dirty talk such as “yeah baby, d’you like fucking me” etc etc which in the light of day sounds ridiculous and embarrassing which is why it has taken me a long time to try and be comfortable, and actually enjoy being vocal during sex. But I have never said, “By the way, that’s not my clitoris.” Just, too awkward. The most I do is go really quiet if it’s not good, and get very vocal the better it is. I figure that’s generally an effective, yet subtle enough way of communicating how it’s going to the other person.

Also, I have no idea where to look while receiving oral sex! Surely this can’t be just me, surely other people must wonder this also? For me oral sex is FAR more personal than regular sex. It’s just so Goddamn intimate. And I don’t know if I want to make eye contact with someone who has their tongue in my pussy. Will it make them feel stared at? Will it make them feel uncomfortable? I don’t know! So, even though watching someone lick me is a huge turn-on, I usually lie back and close my eyes to try to ensure that I don’t make any eye-contact with them. Feeling awkward is a huge hindrance to achieving orgasm for me, so this was another reason I asked him to turn off the light.

He asked me, “Why?” when I asked him, and I replied “I dunno, it would just make me feel more comfortable” not wanting to go into any of the above ramblings, or admit to feeling insecure. Insecurity = not usually a turn-on. I realise thinking about it afterwards that I may have come off as a prude to him, wanting to have sex in the dark, which is pretty frustrating to me as I would like to think of myself as quite kinky. Scott obliged, and turned out the light.

He began kissing me up and down my inner thigh, all the way to my knees on both legs. Now I had been with someone else this year who also would do that and with both of them it just went on too long. I think that the intention behind it is to add to the foreplay, add to the anticipation, but seriously, I am wet enough already, one or two thigh kisses is fine, let’s get to it already! And then he went down on me. I am always nervous when people go down on me because fucking hell I could write a book about the terrible terrible oral sex I have received in my lifetime. Once it felt as though this guy I was with thought my vagina was a steak and his mouth was a meat-tenderiser. Owwwwww. But I was very pleasantly surprised. Scott goes down on my list of men who have actually made me come from going down on me – a depressingly short list. I had to give him no direction. NONE. He was like cunnilingus yoda. Found the right spot immediately, and played around in that area throughout. Long enough for the orgasm to be awesome, short enough for it not to get annoying. Scott gets ten points in the cunnilingus section.

I get extremely sensitive around my clitoris after an orgasm, so I like to try and pull people away as soon as the orgasm as subsided. I am pretty sure he knew I had come, body spasms and loud noises are a good sign, but he seemed to want to carry on. So I pulled him up towards me, and kissed him, enjoying tasting my own wetness on his mouth. I guess some people find that gross, but I really don’t. I pushed him onto his back and tried to take off his pants, but his tightly drawn pajama pants were making my life difficult, so he ended up having to help me. We both laughed at this though, thankfully. I kissed his neck, moving down to his nipples, down his stomach, and started going down on him. I generally like to start off using just my mouth, and then both my hand and my mouth to intensify the feeling. I did this here. After only about 2 or so minutes of me doing this he pulled me up to kiss me. He had been very silent and definitely hadn’t come, so I was afraid I was doing a really bad job of it. I asked him “Do you not want me to?” And he responded, “It’s just, it depends on if you want to do anything else.” He was trying to politely tell me he was going to come soon and if he did, would be unable to fuck me. Pleased that I was not doing a bad job, and still in the mood to be controlled, I asked “Well, what do you want to do?”He responded with, “I’d quite like to do you at this point in time”. The way he said it was remarkably charming, and I laughed out loud at how adorable and yet sexy he was at the same time.

So we made out a while longer, and then I asked him if he had any condoms. He went into the bathroom to get some and brought pack a whole pack of free ones (not that I’m judging. Generally, a condom is a condom, unless it has a flavour or a tingly lube). He put it on, got on top of me and entered me with ease. It was a little sore at first, but it almost always is at that sudden first thrust. I liked him being inside of me, although it didn’t feel as though I was going to come again. I, like most females, struggle to come from penetration alone. I have only come from pure penetration with 2 men, and I think it had a lot to do with the shape and angles of their penises, as opposed to anything they did themselves. But I had already had an orgasm, and I wanted him to come now, because making people come makes me feel damn good. I ran my fingers up and down his back, kissed and nibbled on his neck and ran my hands over his ass, feeling his muscles tighten and then release with each thrust.

One thing I found odd, though, is how silent he was. I have never had such silent sex before in my life. He seemed to be enjoying it, as he got faster and harder, but he made pretty much no noise aside from breathing. I am quite vocal, and I even wondered if I should try to be more quiet, seeing as how he was being so silent. At one point he stopped and asked, breathing heavily, “Tell me what to do. Tell me what’s good for you?” I said that what he was doing was good for me, and so he carried on. At around this point, the dog, who had been on the bed the whole time may I remind you, gets up and comes to lie next to my leg. Considering that we were moving around a lot, and I didn’t want to inadvertently kick the dog giving it the excuse it had been looking for all evening to bite off my face, I mentioned her current location to Scott. He tried talking to her again, but to no avail, so he got off of me and picked her up to move her off the bed. He got back on so that we could resume, and as we did she jumped back onto the bed, but stayed away from my leg this time, no doubt imagining how much she would love to eviscerate me. All in all I think that the sex itself lasted for around ten to fifteen minutes, but that is just a guess. He got really hard and fast, and it was sore, but a good sore. Near the end it started getting a bit too sore, but then he came and it was over. Even when he came he was quiet, barely a murmur escaped from his lips. We lay there for a few moments, sweaty and holding each other, catching our breath and then he got off of me and went to the bathroom to take off the condom and do… whatever men do in bathrooms after sex? After he came back, I went to the bathroom quite unsteady on my numb legs, then got back into bed. He drew me to him, and wrapped an arm around me. I fell asleep feeling the cool smoothness of his chest on my cheek, and listening to his heart beat.

To be continued…

“The Sex” was a bit longer than I thought, so Chapter 1 part 3 will feature The Morning After, and Oh God the Awkward.

Also lookout for Chapter 2: The Almost Threesome From Hell. Coming soon.